


When Emotion Travels Far

by Dream_Seeker



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 15:10:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/749931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dream_Seeker/pseuds/Dream_Seeker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Going to cry for the last Hobbit movie? Many are. Many, many are.<br/>Grief is such a strong emotion, isn't it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It wasn't befitting to openly weep. Though all of the Dwarves felt the loss of Thorin Oakenshield and his Nephews, Kili and Fili, not one tear was shed. Though a somber silence filled the underground cavern in the Hall where all Kings and Heirs past, present and future were buried, not one tear was shed. A few lips pursed occasionally, more than one fist was tightened, many eyes blinked far more than usual; but not one tear was shed.

Tears were for after the three tombs were closed for Eternity. Tears were for after every Dwarf had solemnly left the Hall of Kings and made their way to the main level of Erebor. Tears were for after the merry feast in honor of the fallen was long over.  
  
Tears were for late at night where only the darkness bore witness, or while in the arms of one's companion. Only then were soft words spoken, memories talked of, losses felt. It wasn't befitting any Dwarf to openly weep - though each and every one in Erebor knew that there was not one dry eye anywhere once the sun had set. Even then, no one grieved hard. It was a silent brave mourning which would show no evidence of by the time the sun rose later. It was just how Dwarves were. All knew that, in time, they would all reunite in Mahal and nothing would sever them then. Patience was one thing bred into their kind and patience would reward them in their own end.  
  
Times passing went on as time was meant to do. The Third Age passed into the Fourth, the Fourth passed into the Fifth. By that time, Man had persevered while all other races had long vanished forever, to become talk of legends and myth: Elves, Dwarves, Pixies, Trolls, Gnomes, Fairies, Dragons, Will-O-Wisps, Giants, Hobbits, Goblins, and countless others. It was as if they'd never existed; never lived, never loved, never mattered.  
  
Over time's passing, the land changed formation. Islands were taken under the sea, where new islands rose to take their place somewhere else. New continents were created, earthquakes and volcanoes changed mountains into flat land, and flat land into mountains. Great seas became rivers and rivers became seas. And time kept moving forward.  
  
The Fifth Age became the Sixth became the Seventh became the Eighth...  
  
became the Ninth - and current - Age.  


* * *

  
  
The World was nothing like it ever had been. The way Mankind had progressed in the last 100 years alone was mind-blowing. Where once people had to do everything by hand or with the aid of animal strength, they now had machines, computers, the Internet, cars, trains, planes... life was a lot more easier than it used to be, but the cost of such ease was taking its toll. Between pollution, laziness and the Self Entitlements everyone was forging, life was really more rough than ever before.  
  
But time kept moving forward. People kept creating new ways to get more done easier, faster, in greater amounts. Life went on as it always did.  
  
Stories were written. Stories were always written. One such author had written quite a few beloved books which had brought many a reader into the gorgeous world of long ago; a world where more than just Man existed. The world was much smaller and there was still Good versus Evil and Good usually always won as stories are meant to go. The lucky readers who found this world through the authors tales learned to love many of the persons in the tales; the battles became their own, the outcomes rang in the readers minds for life; many wished they could return to how things were during the Third Age; most agreed the Fourth age and on were too dark and dismal - a look into their own times in the present, though not many would wish to view it as such. Such wonderful fiction tales, and what a shame those days never existed.  
  
Movies were made of the books and many became fans due to them as well. Heroes were made, enemies were loathed, crushes were created, fan stories were written of the movies and books, and life went on as it always did.  
  
Starting in December of 2012 another new movie trilogy was created from that amazing fictionalized world which that beloved author had created. For the next three years, each and every December, one movie came out.  
  
On opening night of the final movie, there were mixed reactions. Most didn't wish to watch it as most knew the ending to come but all went. Yes indeed, all went. They owed it to the honor of the three who fell in battle fighting for something that drove their very hearts, their very souls, their very reason for _existence_. Yes, the movie goers knew it would be nothing less than an honor and privilege, though heart crushing, to be there for the fall of their heroes.  
  
Three hours later, most of the worlds population were in tears. They were unashamedly weeping outright, dabbing a kleenex to their eyes, sobbing hard in lamentation of what they couldn't prevent.  
  
One viewer in particular was grieving exceptionally hard. No amount of consolation would ease her pain. She wasn't much for friends in the outside world and rather kept to herself outside of her part time job at the local coffee shop. She had her books as friends, movies as friends, fiction as friends. Her 'what if' dreams as friends. And this night, three of her dearest friends had been killed. She knew it was coming, but seeing it happen in front of her eyes with no way to stop it, and knowing the loss of such young lives being snuffed out before they could love or have their own families... to see the hopes and dreams of the other who couldn't even live his dream despite being right there, standing on the grounds of Erebor itself...  
  
It wasn't _fair_. And she sobbed violently that night. It was as if her family had died in a freak accident. She lost a lot with the loss in that theater. She called in to work for the week, claiming a violent flu. She just wanted to be left alone, to mourn, to grieve. And then to write a ton of fiction to make things right again. <hr />

* * *

  
Time passed, always and ever, and sometimes time was unforgiving to not just the land mass or people, but to places. One such place had suffered great damage. Though various tunnels still stood, most had caved in with dirt and rocks blocking the paths once traveled daily. One tunnel had held up well enough, though no sconces burned any longer, leaving the way pitch black. Various bats had taken up residence, and cobwebs decorated the walls almost every few yards. The air was moist due to a rogue stream which had made its way down from the land above and the occasional drip, drip, drip could be heard shattering the dead silence.  
  
If one would have found the tunnel and braved the walk, they would have come upon a huge cavern. The sides were smooth and had odd writing chiseled into the rock here and there, but no man today would have been able to understand it, no matter the degree in Linguistics they held. It was a long forgotten language - though one man had brought a few words around to the current society. Aside from that, all had been lost.  
  
There were various ledges in the rock walls; almost shelving, though they were around six feet long and three feet deep; one atop the other and no more than three high. Huge stone vats had fallen, most had crumbled due to others landing above them from some long ago violent force; no doubt earthquakes. It wouldn't have taken anyone too long to realize they were coffins, but such of the like no man today would have seen. They were inlaid with gold and had similar markings on them which decorated the walls around.  
  
In a separate smaller cavern not too far off from the main one, deep under what used to be a regal mountain once held captive by a great Dragon, three of the stone coffins remained intact as the day they were closed so, so long ago. In the dead silence of the cavern, a low grating noise suddenly broke the silence; two more of the same followed not shortly behind. It was right then, formed from the collective grief centered on the three but mainly from the tumultuous grief of one girl in the world, that three souls stirred - and rose. The grief sent to them was too strong for them to rest in peace. They had to make things right some how. That kind of grief was not good, no matter the reason.  
  
Even though time passed into Ages and Ages hence, the three knew it wasn't befitting to openly weep - and whomever was spilling such open sorrow over them had to be found. Their soul had to be comforted and calmed if only to allow the three to return to their rest.<hr />  
  
  
 


	2. Chapter 2

Aime didn't remember how she got home, but somehow she did. The theater wasn't too far from her studio apartment, only a block away, and though it'd been raining, she hadn't noticed that either. Only when she dropped her coat to the floor and walked in a daze to her couch and sank down on it, did she realize she was home.

Not that it brought any relief, for there on her wall was one of many pride and joys she'd bought online: a huge poster of the Durin trio posed with their weapons. Kili and Fili stood on either side of Thorin, who had that look in his eyes which Aime had interpreted as that fierce desire to regain his home once again. Just seeing it brought her tears fresh, though perhaps she'd not stopped sobbing since that fateful scene in the movie.

Aime lied down on her couch on her stomach, one arm laying off it and fingers playing in the carpet. As her tears soaked into the cushion below her, she could only think about how unfair everything was. For Thorin and the rest to brave all that they had, for them to come so close, for him to have been right there in Erebor and to be struck down, it wasn't fair. And knowing he and his Nephews were lying under Erebor never to hold their rightful titles was truly heartbreaking.

Deep down Aime knew she was acting ridiculously. It wasn't as if they'd ever existed. She knew that as much as the next person. But from her years of reading the books and seeing the movies over and over thanks to DVD, from years of reading and writing fan fictions and making her own little proper endings to the tale, they had become close to her. Friends in a way, silly as that sounded. But Aime knew after having 23 years of having flesh and blood so called 'friends' get bored with her or ridicule her likes, friends one found in movies and books were so much better. They never left. And despite Thorin, Kili and Fili dying in the book and movie, she knew she could always relive their lifetimes and deny the rest. But oh, how that movie brought it to a vivid reality check.

A deep sigh left her as she looked up at the poster of the three. Eyes caressed over each of the Durin men's faces, memorizing every inch of them though they'd been memorized more often than not. Even when more tears claimed Aime and blurred their faces, she could still see them perfectly in her minds eye.

Still in the depths of great grief, Aime dozed off. Emotion that strong had the tendency to wear someone out immensely, after all.

 

* * *

Though incorporeal, the three knew precisely where to go and, as one, headed toward the source of the sorrow which had woken them from their slumber. The pull was so strong and was akin to someone trying to sleep while someone outside was making a horrendous racket. All one would want to do was find the source of the noise and calm them down. In this case, the three knew the sorrow was for them, which was odd enough. Even when they'd passed, they were gently put to rest by the normal customs of their people and never had a King or his Heirs been disturbed through tears and pain.

They knew how much time had passed as well, which was quite odd - yet rather calming. Despite the time, they were still remembered. But for someone to grieve this much...

It took no time for the spirits of Thorin Oakenshield, Fili and Kili to get to where the sorrow was coming from. That was one positive of being in spirit form: they could be anywhere at a moments notice. They also knew of the changes which had come to be via the passage of time but that too mattered naught to any of the three.

True, they felt the sadness around them as they traveled and, though not as strong as their targets grief, it still was enough to touch each of them. "Our story has been told again." Thorin murmured as Fili and Kili nodded. They knew of the author - nothing was a mystery once one left their physical body, after all - but nothing prepared them for the depth and strength of the emotions of those who knew their fate. But if they could put this one girl to peace, it would be worth it.

 

* * *

Some voice or something woke Aime and she opened one eye, seeing that it had grown dark. She mumbled something and reached up to turn the light on on the table by the couch - and stopped as she heard it again.

"Why do you weep so hard for us?"

Aime let out a squeak, sat up fast and cussed as she wracked her shin on the coffee table in front of the couch. Hissing under her breath as she rubbed the offended area, she looked around. "Who's there?" She grabbed her phone off the table, her fingers already starting to dial the police. "Get out of my house!"

"Not until you tell us why you weep so hard for us." The voice - so familiar! - came again, and this time a second just-as-familiar voice piped up, "Perhaps you're scaring her, Uncle. We're not going to harm you. I vow this to you. Put your phone down."

Aime was shaking hard, trying to see in the dark. It wasn't even that dark yet no one was there. No one.

"Oh fuck me..." She got out, reached over, turned on the light - and no one was there. No one. Not a _soul_ was there. "I'm losing my mind..." Aime whimpered as she got up and backed into her kitchen area, eyes moving all over the living room. She only stopped when she bumped into her kitchen counter and flipped the light on there as well. Her hand moved to her silverware drawer and she opened it without taking her eyes off her empty living room. Patting around the silverware holder, she found what she was looking for - and pulled out a butter knife.

"Oh come ON..." Aime snapped, letting it go and grabbing a steak knife instead. Not too threatening but it helped her feel better. "Seriously, I"m losing my damned mind. What am I going to do? Stab my brain next time it comes up with a disembodied voice?"

"You are not losing your mind." That came right next to her where her coffee maker was. Aime let out a scream, dropped the steak knife which missed her foot by a few inches and she bolted to her room, slamming her door. She jumped onto her bed, pulled her pillow over her head and told herself in no uncertain terms, "I am going to see a shrink tomorrow. That's it. My coffee maker is talking to me? Noooo way. Uh-uh. Not even happening."

"Your extreme sorrow called us here. Forgive us for frightening you so badly."

"No, no no no. I'm not listening. I'm not even listening." Came Aime's voice, muffled from the pillow over it. Her heart was going a million miles a minute and she was breathing like she just ran a marathon. Flipping onto her side away from her door and the voice, Aime softly said, "Okay Mister Voice, I'll play along. Who are you?"

"We are the three whom you mourn so strongly for. Your tears and sorrow woke us."

"Would you stop talking in riddles?"

"You wish our names?" Came the voice and, to Aime's horror, the side of the bed she was lying toward sank down as if someone had sat there. Her eyes were wide in horror since she not only felt it but saw it happen.

"Oh god, I"m being haunted, aren't I?" She whispered and heard a soft chuckle from behind her as her bed behind her sank down in not one, but two places.

"Not haunted, no. But you did disturb our rest. Not that we're upset, mind you. We could never be upset over someone who is mourning us that strongly, can we, Fili?" Came yet a third familiar voice behind her, and, when Aime felt a hand touch her shoulder, she whipped onto her back, tossed the pillow off her - and let out this sound as she saw Kili smiling down at her. Well, he wasn't _solid_ by any definition of the form; she could see through him, yes. But he was _there_.

"How... I... you... but... what... I... just..." Aime completely forgot how to put any format of sentence together and just stared like a goldfish with those huge bubbly eyes. "Dreaming. I'm dreaming, that's all."

"You're very much awake." Came a voice behind the Kili thing and for a quick moment, Aime thought she saw Fili flicker into view for a brief moment before fading away. "And Kili, how are you _doing_ that for so long? Just doing that for a moment made me exhausted."

"Because I'm more talented than you, brother." Came Kili's reply as he glanced over to where his brother was with a giant grin. He then turned his attentions back to the still-shocked Aime. "Everyone knows I'm far more talented than Fili, right?" He asked her and she just replied in some format of, "Beh..."

"Now, now, Kili and Fili. We're here for a reason you know." Aime slowly let her eyes move to her other side and no one was there, though he kept speaking softly. "Your sorrow for our deaths summoned us. None of us know why but we know we have to calm you down. Comfort you. Else we can't sleep."

"Thorin..." Aime softly said and he confirmed it.

"I am, yes."

"Show me... please..." Maybe she wasn't dreaming and was in the middle of some massively fucked up paranormal thing. Maybe some demons were using her movie grief as the means to weaken her and take her soul... and yeah, that really made no sense. Of course, Thorin, Kili and Fili in her freakin' bedroom made about as much sense - and there they were.

Yes, there was Thorin; he was able to show himself a lot fuller than Kili, who was pouting a little for being one-upped even in death.

Of course, Aime didn't notice that as, upon seeing Thorin there, she had fainted clean away.

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N: this has started out great in my mind but I hope the readers find it great as well, or at least nice to read. I have no idea how I'm going to take this for future chapters. I don't want it to become stupid. I really don't. I LOVE all the stories on here so much but wanted to take a route that no one has done yet (far as I know at least), and instead of having a gal from our time go back there, or instead of having them just pop up here for whatever reason, this plot bunny came to mind. It's a great plot bunny. I wish I could have written out their rising a lot better but yeah. Again, played in my mind amazingly; writing it down, not so well. Of course we all think our own work lacks be it writing, art, music, singing so... I'll leave it to the reviews. I have a feeling they won't really 'notice' how time has changed. Are they in spirit form or flesh and blood? I don't know. I DO know that her grief is so so so strong and that, coupled with the entire worlds fan base sobbing over them, is what brought them back. Made their rest uneasy. She's a lucky gal, eh?**
> 
>  
> 
> **If they're in spirit form, they'd not really notice anything around them; they'd more 'beacon-target' on to her grief, right? I really don't want to have them in the Ninth Age all flipping shit and staring wide eyed at cars and this and that UNLESS i can do it right. That's not their drive or purpose for being back, though; that is not what brought them back to 'life'. If they're flesh and blood, some part of me wants to hold to that mindset too. It's like if one is in a pitch black room and sees a dim light ahead. They will focus on that light, on getting to that light and nothing else really.**


End file.
